


Practice Makes Perfect

by literati42



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Episode Tag, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Team Bonding, season 1xep15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24266611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literati42/pseuds/literati42
Summary: Bright still hasn't properly apologized for his harsh words to Edrisa during the mortician case and he wants to make it up to her. A simple apology turns into a crisis when Edrisa invites him to a game night where things get eventful. Because Bright is there, so of course they do.Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt: Accidentally Hurt by a FriendEpisode tag 1x15
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45
Collections: Literati42 Commissions Trades Requests





	Practice Makes Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cornerofmadness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/gifts).



> For CornerofMadness who requested a story where Malcolm finally gives Edrisa the apology he deserves. And because I'm writing, this inevitably turned into a deep dive into his psyche! I also just watched the movie Game Night so...that should explain some things.
> 
> As always come hang with me on twitter @themythofpsyche, on tumblr @literati42, and on tiktok @profchrisagent

Dani read a file as she walked through the precinct. She knew the pathway by heart, and could traverse the obstacle course of desks all the way to her own blindfolded if the need ever occurred. Not long ago, that seemed like the kind of thing that no one would ever need to be prepared for, but since Bright started working for the team, Dani stopped underestimating what weird circumstances could occur. Of course, she was not actually prepared for the obstacle in her path to be a human leg on the floor behind her desk.

She jumped back to keep from fully tripping over it, seeing the leg belonged to the very profiler she was just thinking about. He sat on the floor behind her desk, back against it and legs slightly behind her chair in a spot that could not be comfortable. “Holy shit, Bright, what the hell are you doing?”

“Shh,” Bright said, pressing his finger to his lips as he shifted to sit on his heels. He was hiding, she realized. Dani’s eyes spun around the precinct, landing on a familiar ME over by the coffee pot. The detective rolled her eyes so hard it practically gave her a migraine and knelt down beside him.

“Are you currently hiding from Edrisa behind my desk?”

“Me? Why would I…” He hesitated, “I mean, I wouldn’t say hiding…”

“Bright,” Dani smacked his shoulder lightly, “Have you not apologized yet?” It had been five days since the mortician conference wrapped up. Five days since Bright said words to Edrisa he immediately regretted. Dani was not there in the moment, but she heard about it from him afterward. In fact, calling to apologize was how Bright discovered the criminal had Edrisa hostage. “I thought you went back to tell her after we caught the perp!”

“She was just so happy,” Bright said, “And everyone was praising her save…”

“And you chickened out,” Dani replied.

She saw the look he gave her, frustration with a side of guilt. “I couldn’t figure out how to say it.”

“And you still haven’t, which is why you’re hiding behind my desk?” Dani sighed, “Bright, honestly.”

“I haven’t had much practice,” he said, tone quiet.

“Admitting when you’re wrong? Sounds about right.”

“No,” Bright said, “I haven’t had much practice with people caring enough about me for an apology to matter.”

Dani smacked his shoulder again, even lighter this time.

“What?”

“You can’t keep saying stuff like that when I’m trying to be annoyed at you,” she said. Her eyes softened, “Bright, I know you care about Edrisa. She matters to you, and that makes all of this harder, but you can’t hide from the people you care about because fixing things is hard.”

“What if I make it worse?”

“Bright, there’s no one in the world who is going to make apologizing easier for you than Edrisa. She’s crazy about you.” Dani straightened up, “Stop hiding and get over there before she leaves.” She frowned. Edrisa was already gone from the break room. “I think you missed her…”

“What are we hiding from?” Edrisa’s voice behind her caused Dani to spin around and Bright to nearly jump out of his skin. The profiler slowly unfolded out of his spot on the floor, putting on a smile.

“Edrisa…I was looking for you.”

“Behind Dani’s desk?” Edrisa asked, confused.

“No, I…”

Dani patted him on the shoulder, “I would leave you to it, but you two are literally blocking me from getting any work done.”

“Right,” Bright said.

“Maybe we should…” Edrisa pointed back to the break room.

“Yes…okay.”

Dani shook her head as they moved away.

Bright followed Edrisa into the break room, his nerves practically rattling out of him. “Edrisa…”

“Yes?” she asked. He tried to make out any signs of anger, but she looked up at him with expectation, hanging on his words. Just like normal. He felt a stab of guilt twist like a knife in his gut. A feeling he was actually well acquainted with.

“Edrisa, what I said about you being helpful…” He said. Just like he feared, her expression changed in a moment. She looked so hurt all over again. “I wanted to say…I’m sorry.”

“No, Bright, you don’t have to. I know…”

“No, I am sorry,” Bright cut in, “I didn’t mean it…” He wanted so badly to change the expression on her face that he said the first thing that came to his mind. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Bright, you don’t have to make it up to me,” Edrisa said, “I forgive you.”

“No, please. Let me do something for you. Anything you want.”

Edrisa seemed to consider this, “Anything?”

“Ah…well…” Suddenly, Bright felt like he had no control over this situation. “Not necessarily anything…”

“Come to my game night?”

“Come again?”

Edrisa smiled up at him, “I’m having some friends over for game night. Remember I told you about it? You never RSVPed…but you know, if you’re too busy, I understand…”

“No, game night sounds good,” Bright smiled. Talking this through might be hard, but a plan, an action he could take, that was something more in his wheelhouse. “I’ve never been to a game night.”

“Never been to a game night?” Edrisa gasped, “Oh, Bright, this is going to be the best night!”

He smiled because she was smiling. He hoped quietly that he would not come to regret this.

_-_-_

When he heard game night, Bright assumed Edrisa meant poker. He did not particularly like the game, but he was good at reading people’s tells. When they played, Gil would always tell him he would be a pretty good player if he could develop any amount of a poker face. Apparently, his eyes gave him away every time.

It turned out, Edrisa did not mean poker, which was how Bright learned that he hated Jenga. If there was ever a game to play against all of his strengths, it was this one. There was no reason to read the other players, so his attention immediately started wandering when it was anyone else’s turn. Then he could usually only make it through the first round of easy to remove bricks, because the minute the tower was precarious, his shaking hand meant it fell on his turn. Jenga was the worst game.

“How about charades?” Edrisa asked, smiling at him after he lost the third time in a row.

“People really play that?” Bright asked. Scratch what he said. Charades was definitely the worst game.

“Yeah!” Edrisa said, clearly not reading his tone at all. A beep from the direction of the kitchen caught her attention. She patted his knee. “Pizza rolls. I’ll be right back.” She leaped up, vacating her spot on the couch.

The relief Bright felt from having a break from the games lasted approximately five seconds before he realized that Edrisa had just left him alone in a room full of her friends. He knew them all in the vaguest way. They were all members of the CSI team. Still, Bright was sure there were at least three people here he had exchanged no more than a passing, “Is the crime scene this way?” with over the course of his time at the precinct.

He watched them all interacting. They fell into easy conversation with each other. Bright watched all the connections, imagining them like the points on a murder board, connected by pieces of string. The woman to his left kept made jokes with the man two seats over. The person on the arm of the couch glanced across the room. Apparently, they shared an inside joke with the man sitting on the floor. They were all so close, so easy in each other’s presence.

Bright was not sure he had been that easy with anyone whose last name was not Arroyo in the last twenty years. Not even the team, the people who had become his closest friends. Anytime the conversations became less about the case and more about the moment, he felt a little on edge. He felt the painful awareness that he could talk to any criminal they came across without hesitation, even if that murderer had a gun trained on him. Put him in a social situation, however, and he was fifteen again.

Without Edrisa there, he felt invisible.

Then one of her friends, the person on the arm of the chair—Jay, Bright was pretty sure their name was—made eye contact with him and smiled. Bright realized that feeling invisible was terrible, but whatever awkward conversation was about to happen could only be worse. “I better help Edrisa,” he said, cutting them off. He jumped up and fled to the kitchen. The ME was on her phone, but immediately hung it up when he came in.

“Bright?” She frowned, “Are you okay?”

“I…wanted to see if you needed help…” he remembered why she came in here and immediately felt the excuse fall away. Who needed help with pizza rolls? Then, Edrisa’s face fell into the biggest smile.

“That’s so sweet,” she said, “Always rushing to help people.”

Bright caught her words, how they were almost the opposite of what he said to her during the case. “Edrisa…”

A slam sounded, cutting off any words he was hoping to find. Bright whipped around, eyes going to the door, as four men came in decked in head to toe black clothes. They looked like SWAT, but there were no official logos anywhere to be seen. Bright jumped in front of Edrisa. The men immediately made for them, guns aimed their way.

“Edrisa Tanaka?” one of the men said.

“Yes?” she said. Maybe she really was riding the high of hitting their last criminal with the tray because she did not sound nearly scared enough.

“You need to come with the others,” the man said, motioning for the game room, where everyone else sat, looking up in shock or fear. “Then, we will explain everything.”

They took a step forward, and Bright realized he would need to get their attention away from her before this escalated.

Sometimes it was the moment to talk, but Bright could not profile these men. Something was wrong with this whole exchange. He knew it in his gut, but he had no grasp of what it was, so talking this out might not work. This was a moment to act.

Edrisa started moving to the main room, and Bright fell in step behind her. He switched his pace slightly and realized all but the last man let him get behind them. Amateurs. Bright turned on the last man in a whirl, twisting his wrist. The man howled with pain and dropped the gun, it was in Bright’s hands at once, and he aimed it at the next man.

The first one fell to his knees, “What the hell!” he said, pain rocketing through his voice. Bright frowned. These men did not seem like professionals at all.

“Hey,” the second man said, stepping toward him, “That is not how this goes!” he was furious and huge. He also was acting like he did not even have a gun, literally dropping it as he stepped toward Bright.

“Bright!” Edrisa said, her tone alarmed for the first time. She stepped forward, but the third man stopped her. He had a gun and a room full of hostages now.

“Enough is enough,” the second man said, approaching Bright. “You need to calm down.” The profiler lowered the gun to the floor and raised his hands. He needed to go along with this if he could hope to keep everyone safe. He was not at all expecting the man to get behind him and get him in a hold, pushing him to the ground. The man was being surprisingly gentle, but firm. He had Bright in an expert hold. Why the hell was he doing this? Bright had surrendered.

“Stop! What are you doing? Don’t hurt him!”

“Don’t hurt him?” the third man said, “He hurt Jerry!”

Bright felt panic in his gut. None of this made sense. They were not just acting like amateurs. They were acting like they were not criminals at all. He struggled against the hold, but the man just put more pressure on him.

“Calm down, you’re going to hurt yourself,” the man said. Bright pulled more, cursing as he felt pain in his shoulder. “Stop!” The man said, and Bright realized the man really was not trying to hurt him. Maybe they were not trying to hurt anyone at all.

It was a risk, but Bright was a risk-taker. He pushed up with all his strength, a move the man was not expecting. He fell off Bright with a surprised sound, and Bright leaped to his feet, only for the man to grab his ankle. Bright’s momentum carried him down, slamming him headfirst into the doorway of the main room.

“Bright!” He saw Edrisa’s shoes as she came into the hallway. “It’s over! Stop now!”

Why did it suddenly seem like she was in charge? The ME kneeled in front of him. “You okay?” She helped him sit up and cringed, “Hand me a towel.” She said to…one of the intruders?

“What’s going on?” Bright asked. The third man handed a wad of paper towels to Edrisa, and she balled it up, pressing it against his forehead. He hissed in pain.

“The game is over,” she said, “You guys can go.” She looked at Bright, “I am so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“I…don’t…”

“It was a realistic murder mystery experience.”

“A…”

“A game, Bright,” she said.

“You’re going to pay extra for the medical expense,” the second man said, as the other three went out the door.

“His hand will be fine,” Edrisa said, standing up to her full height—short as that was. “But my friend might have a concussion. Do we really want to get into legal problems with this?” She was furious, defending him to a man three times her size. Bright smiled slightly up at her. The man shook his head, said something about how she would be getting a call, and left with the other three.

The ME kneeled back down beside him. “I thought…you never come to game night, and you enjoy solving murders so much…I thought…it would be a fun surprise.” She put her head in her hand, “That was so stupid…of course you would fight back. You’re so awesome at handling these situations. I…wanted to make you happy, make you feel comfortable with my friends. I don’t know why I thought I could help. I’m not good at helping.”

Bright cringed. There were his words again. “Edrisa,” he said, just as she held out her hand for another paper towel wad to replace the bloodsoaked one she dropped on the floor. Edrisa pushed the new wad against his wound. Someone in the background was calling an ambulance. “Edrisa, I…I didn’t mean those words.” He let out a breath, “You are so much help every day. You help us put murders away. You save the lives of all their future victims. No one is a better ME than you. No one. I was a fed. I’ve met a lot of MEs, but there’s not one out there I would trust like I trust you.” He pushed her hand away for a moment and sat forward, making eye contact with her. “And you help the team. You bring this…this joy all the time. You give me someone to get excited with. And you just like me all the time. All the time, no matter what, and that helps me every day.”

“Bright…”

“That’s why it was so hard to apologize.” He closed his eyes, suddenly not wanting to see her expression anymore. “You always think I’m right and good and…I didn’t want you to see you were wrong.”

“Bright,” Edrisa said. His eyes opened slowly to meet hers. She sat back on her heels and met his eyes right back. “Just because I think you’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met doesn’t mean I expect you to be perfect.” Her eyes widened in sudden realization, “You don’t have to try so hard to impress me. You already do.”

“That’s because you only see me at work,” Bright said, “Where I’m good at things. This stuff…” he motioned back toward the room where her friends were standing. He tried to force himself to ignore the fact that they were all watching. Then he motioned between the two of them. “This stuff…I’m terrible at.”

“You mean social stuff?” Edrisa asked. She made a sudden little “oh!” and pushed the paper towel against his forehead again.

“Yeah,” he replied, tilting his head back as she nudged him to do so. “The stuff you’re good at.”

“Me?” she replied, then she laughed, “I’m a weirdo.”

He squinted at her. “You’re literally in a room surrounded by people who love you.”

“Yeah,” Edrisa agreed, and Bright wondered what it felt like to say something like that with no doubt. To know you were loved so confidently. “But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. You would not believe how many people find it off-putting to talk about your work when that work involves the bodies of murder victims.”

“I think I can imagine.”

She smiled at him. “We’re not that different.” She paused, “Wait, is that why you always say no to game night? Because social gatherings are…”

“Painful, awkward, full of emotional landmines.” When he looked back at her, he saw a huge smile on her face. “What?”

“It’s just…I didn’t know how much you cared about what people think of you.”

“And that…makes you smile?”

“It’s cute,” she replied, “I uh…I mean…”

“Wait, you think my inability to handle social gatherings is…cute…”

Now she looked at him with utter confusion. “Of course.” Then her eyes grew softer. “Bright, everything I learn about you makes me like you more.” He saw in her eyes how much she meant it.

“I really am so sorry about what I said.”

She grabbed his hand with her free one. “Bright, I really do forgive you.”

_-_-_

Bright opened his eyes enough to see Dani walk over and lean on the corner of the desk he was currently occupying. She reached out and gently touched the bandage on his forehead. “Only you could go to game night and get in a fight.”

He groaned, “You heard the story?”

“It did happen in front of fourteen of our coworkers,” she said, “And um…the CSI unit is a bit of a leaky ship when it comes to office gossip.”

“Does everyone know?”

“Oh yes,” she replied. He groaned again and closed his eyes.

“You know,” Dani said, and he swore he could hear slight amusement in her voice. “If you had just said a proper apology right away and left it at that, without doing this whole…grand gesture thing, none of this would have happened?”

“Dani, you are blaming the victim.”

“I didn’t realize I was blaming the poor community theatre actor whose arm you broke.”

“Ha ha,” Bright replied, dryly. “And for the record, it was his wrist, not his arm, and it was sprained, not broken. Also, my family paid for his medical expenses.”

“Hm,” she replied.

Bright opened his eyes then. “And…all I did was go to game night. Something she’s wanted for ages.”

“I’m just saying, you didn’t have to do that. You really can just apologize. Take the L.”

“When I did apologize to her, I mean actually talk it through with her...”

“While you were bleeding in her hallway?”

“…she just thought it was cute.”

Dani’s smile had gone from teasing amusement to something a bit softer. “She really does care about you, Bright.” She held up a hand, “Not that everyone who cares about you has to find even your flaws cute, that’s Edrisa’s area. But…if someone really cares about you, they take you, flaws and all. That’s why you can just apologize and not feel like you have to earn their love back.”

Bright flinched slightly. He knew this feeling from years of therapy. Dani had hit the truth directly in the bullseye, and it hurt way worse than slamming his head into the doorframe.

“That was my Dad.”

“I figured,” she said softy, her eyes encouraging him to go on.

“You know, I didn’t see it. I don’t just mean before he was arrested…but after. It took me years. He always said his love was unconditional, but when I told him I was going to Quantico, to join the FBI…” Going back to this memory in his mind triggered a kind of pain Bright was not expecting. “I didn’t realize how much I was working for his love until he took it away.” Bright cleared his throat, shifting in the chair, “But you um…you came over here for something.”  
“Yeah, well, I didn’t see the conversation going this way when I came over, so, maybe another time.”

“No,” Bright leaned toward her, “I want to know.”

Dani seemed to consider this, shifting something in her hands. For the first time, Bright noticed the box she was carrying. “Wait…is that…”

She handed it to him, “Jenga, for the break room.”

He saw the note. It was from Dani and JT, apparently. He looked up, “This game is biased in favor of people with steady hands. And it’s extremely boring.”

Bright watched Dani try—not very hard he noted—to surpress a smile. “You know…I think it’s good for you to do things you aren’t good at once in a while.”

“Like Jenga?”

“Or group parties,” Dani said, “Or apologizing to your friends when you’ve been super wrong.”

“You sound like Gil.”

“Maybe because he said it to me a few times.” She bumped her boot against his leg one more time before getting off his desk. “You did good, Bright. You did good.” Bright watched her walk away. Then, slowly, he turned his attention to the Jenga box she left on his desk. He opened it, carefully pulling the box off the tower so that it stood for exactly five seconds before he accidentally knocked it over again.

Maybe, Bright still had some practicing to do.


End file.
